


Untimely Circumstance

by srsly_yes



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Alternate Reality, Angst, Beating, Dark, Friendship, May Be Viewed With Slash Goggles, May wear slash goggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-21
Updated: 2011-07-21
Packaged: 2017-10-21 18:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/228201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/srsly_yes/pseuds/srsly_yes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during World War II, Germany. Wilson is faced with a dilemma--how to save his Jewish friend, House.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untimely Circumstance

**Author's Note:**

> _Characters:_ House/Haus and Wilson/Weismann  
>  _Disclaimer:_ [H]ouse is not mine and never will be.  
>  _A/N:_ Written for Camp Sick!Wilson (LJ sick_wilson community) and [](http://barefootpuddles.livejournal.com/profile)[**barefootpuddles**](http://barefootpuddles.livejournal.com/) ', [The Literary Drabble Challenge](http://sick-wilson.livejournal.com/493995.html). The prompt, _"I am very sorry about this, but in all the circumstances there is no choice."_ (Taken from _Hinge of Fate_ by Winston Churchill.)  
> 

As the drumming of boots echoes down the empty street, he estimates there is time for one last smoke. The flame jumps in his cupped, trembling hand as he lights the tobacco. Thank God his nerves held steady during the operation.

In the morning, when Haus regains consciousness and discovers the crater in his thigh, he will curse him for not following his instructions, turning him into a cripple. Weissmann finds little comfort in knowing his decision was the right one. At least Haus will be safe, working under a new identity.

Six SS officers turn the corner and come into view. After drawing one last puff from his cigarette, he touches the newly stitched star on his sleeve and pats his pocket. The forged documents crunch beneath the scratchy wool. Dropping the stub, he crushes it as he steps from the protective shadow of the hospital.

They don’t handcuff him immediately. First they search his pockets. Find proof that he is who he claims to be, Gregory Haus. He is rewarded with a kick to the kidneys. The screech of brakes barely registers as he writhes on the ground in agony. The last thing he remembers before blacking out is covering his face as a glossy boot tip fills his vision.

He wakes with the stink of vomit in his nostrils and a dull, throbbing pain in his back. It is too dark to see the condition of his hands, but his knuckles feel raw and slick with blood. From the frantic whine of shifting gears, he knows he is in a truck and the driver is speeding. The lonely wail of a train whistle insinuates into the interior, confirming his suspicion that the destination is the depot.

He quells his rising panic by reminding himself he made a fair trade, one life in exchange for many. Perhaps if this were a different time, or a different place, his life would be different. But this is now, and there is no choice.

  



End file.
